Memorable
by nana castellanos
Summary: Those hands… Oh, how cold they are. As warm as they once were he would remember them if he could. He was to blame, his fault that these hands would never play the strings of a harp again, would never touch the hilt of a sword, and the promise he gave for practicing with the bow was broken like he lie there cold. These oh so wonderful hands one last time covered in blood. (Itamada)


_Those hands… Oh, how cold they are. As warm as they once were he would remember them if he could. He was to blame, his fault that these hands would never play the strings of a harp again, would never touch the hilt of a sword, and the promise he gave for practicing with the bow was broken like he lie there cold. These oh so wonderful hands one last time covered in blood._

 **"** **Elves! Who was here last night, supposed to watch for movements of the enemy?"** Or worse. _Elves._ Who would have guessed. Itachi wouldn't find out who let them pass, who had slept through the night while a whole army of elves entered the city without further notice of the guards placed on various spots around the market place - Itachi should have payed better attention, he thought bitterly that this was the price to pay for having late night conversations with an old wizard, one who told him the funniest things about an army of orcs. First orcs, now _elves_. _It could not get worse._

As if fate wanted to test Itachi, it got worse in the second he begged for someone to have mercy on them. It was not the king who angered Itachi but the guardian on his right side. _This elf._ This elf with his _oh so wonderful hands_ and Itachi remembered them in the night he played the harp, in that night as Itachi grew too fond of an elf. Convincing himself to hate him had been futile. He gave Itachi a lot to remember, to think about at night when Itachi missed _these gentle hands._

 **"I'm sick of these people,"** Itachi muttered, turning his back on Madara in his golden armour, and the king Thranduil as if they did not exist. For Itachi, they simply didn't. For his own sake he refused to acknowledge Madara, standing there next to his king with his arms crossed - _God,_ _ **Madara.**_

* * *

 **"** **And you have seen them coming forth; for what purpose do you think do they come to this mountain? Who do you say is their leader?"** _Madara_ , obviously, was neither fond of Gandalf nor of what he had to tell the king and since Thranduil was - _nicely put_ \- an idiotic fool seeking revenge for whatever on a dwarf he was quiet, perhaps enjoyed the little fight between the wizard and his favourite guardian.

 **"As for the same reason why your army is here, that is what I can tell. They seek war for-"**

 **"A handful of** ** _gold_** **and** ** _gems,_** **like our majesty does. Bringing his people out here, seeking war for what he says is the treasure of his folk, but if you ask** ** _me_** **he is a-"**

 **"Itachi!"** _Gandalf_. He doesn't like being interrupted. Neither does Itachi. Surely, Madara's tired black eyes resting on Itachi fueled the fire within and someone simply had to say for what Thranduil is here. The mere reason. **"Indeed, having a fisherman along with us has its disadvantages. He doesn't know when to stay quiet."** Madara, the king's favorite guardian, doesn't know when to do so either. And by all means, Itachi wasn't a mere fisherman. Just as skilled with the sword as Madara was, he dared to believe; and definitely a better archer. _Madara knew._ That's why he doesn't say anything about it. The Guardian is _ashamed._

Almost good enough to satisfy Itachi. And with the glance Gandalf sent him he learned to remain silent for the rest of this conversation. Until Thranduil would leave, taking his second favorite guardian with him - an elf not less handsome as Madara was. They had left Itachi and Madara behind, but before one of them would say just a word Itachi decided to leave. Perhaps Madara would think he goes fishing.

Madara didn't. In fact, not that he would ever give in to those thoughts, wanted at least one talk with Itachi before tomorrow.

 **"Say, do you even remember who I am?"** Madara asked, as Itachi was about to leave, as he had turned his back on the warrior. Yes, he does. _Oh, how he does._

 **"I do, and this may be why I'm irritated. How did it come you are the king's Guardian, since from what I know you never had the desire to be in that position. Of course, having him to treat you as his favorite has its perks and you aren't a simple warrior anymore. It wasn't enough for you."** Itachi remembered a lot. How they talked about themselves that night, their families or what was left from them. Their wishes for the future, if they had one; you can never tell what happens with a fire breathing dragon in your neighborhood. And so Itachi knew Madara had never lost a word about his desire to become the king's right hand.

 **"A lot has changed."** _Good_. If this is all he had to say, Itachi wouldn't push it any further. However, Madara did.

 **"You used to like my race. You came to visit us often, for years since you were a young boy. I remember… And then you refused talking to us in the rare occasions when we came for negotiations between our king and your leader. Was it because I didn't treat you right in our night together?"** A smirk. This elf was _smirking_ and if his words hadn't upset Itachi he would find it arousing.

 **"Our definition about how to treat someone right are** ** _not_** **the same, that much I know. Out of everyone I had the pleasure to meet from the woodland realm you were the one who's company I liked the most, and you disappointed me. But we could have had this conversation before and now isn't the time, while Thranduil is about to negotiate with the dwarves you are talking to a mere** ** _fisherman_** **; don't feel forced into talking to me."** Itachi shifted uncomfortably, his gaze locked on Madara's. Admiring the fact that Madara was the only elf with black hair he knew Itachi found his thoughts drifting; back to when he was young, just a boy who desperately wanted to meet a few elves, and it was Madara he met first. Everyone else had beautiful silvery hair, in complete contrast to Madara's coal black. He knew this elf was special. And he was, _he really was._

 **"I hit a sensitive spot there, didn't I…"** If Madara was sorry, he didn't quite show it the way his shoulders softly trembled, but to hear his dark voice chuckling again…

 **"You don't have a reason to be upset at me at all, and I was treating you just right. You may have forgotten you are human, but I haven't - while beer seems to affect you rather quickly my mind remains clear. It was entertaining, and that is all. Time has passed since our last meeting and I do regret this must be the circumstances under which I see you for the first time in years. It isn't to be changed, an dwelling in something akin to a grudge is common for your race, I'm not to blame you for it."** **** _God._ He talked too much. Itachi hated him. His deep baritone. The way he stood there, arms remained crossed in front of his chest. **"A grudge,"** Itachi laughed, **"No. That's not how it is. I am not as foolish to think you would have liked me or my company, after all I am just human. Not with the best manners or skilled enough for your liking. I can tell I wasn't special for you, not this night and not the time before and the only reason it affects me as much is because you gave me too much to remember.** ** _How is your younger brother doing?"_**

And Itachi mentioned before Madara was the only one he knew with coal black hair.

* * *

Perhaps Itachi had been rude. He knew how to enrage Madara and he succeeded. Possibly it had been a mistake. But surely, since nobody despised dwarves as much as Thranduil, now in the situation of war that wasn't the time to ponder about the mistake Itachi made. Madara was at his right place, next to the king the following morning and Itachi had to make sure to keep his place until dawn, watching over the Hobbit. It was Itachi who fell asleep and he let the Hobbit escape - Gandalf was not too upset, in fact Itachi thought he welcomed it.

Itachi didn't see Madara again, not as the second army of dwarves arrived and not as orcs rushed through the streets in Laketown, killing everyone in their way. The city would fall at this rate and Itachi was exhausted, had never dared to imagine a war in his beloved homeland, even with a dragon sleeping in the mountain, he deemed this lands to be safe. Gandalf had mentioned these armies. He told them, warned, and nobody wanted to listen. He couldn't tell how long he fought back whoever intruded the city, couldn't say how many he'd seen dying before his eyes, didn't hear the screams anymore, be it a grown man or a child. He was still alive, somehow, laughing in his mind at Madara who had called him a _fisherman_.

* * *

Itachi stopped as he spotted the king Thranduil, walking through quiet streets with his head bowed, his eyes scanning the grounds for his own people who died protecting the city, who had come for their king to reclaim what was his. Gold. Silver. _Nothing more._

The king wanted to leave. What was left now from him, with the knowledge of having his people sacrificed for a handful of gold he would never be able to claim?

The elves that followed him looked just as broken, defeated but alive. Injured. But _alive_ at last. Not like many out on the battlefield, or those who lay at their feet in this very moment.

 _ **"Madara…"**_ Nothing more than a whisper as Itachi looks through the small crowd of elves, trying to spot him. He wasn't there. He couldn't be dead. **"Thranduil!"** No, for Itachi he was not worth to be called king. _Not anymore_. A pair of grey eyes looked at Itachi - tired. Just as defeated as his comrades.

 **"Where is your guardian?"**

Itachi got no answer from him, maybe Thranduil just did not know. Didn't want to know who he had lost in this battle for gold.

Itachi wanted to know. _Needed to know._ It was laughable, that all he wanted was to see this elf again for a simple apologize, so Itachi's last words to him wouldn't be the painful question about Madara's sibling.

With the battle at its end Itachi walked through the streets - not more damaged than before, only searching for Madara, he had to be somewhere. _Somewhere_ … On the ground, if it was possible he hadn't survived.

* * *

Black hair. _Coal black hair,_ long and once silky now sticky with blood. Mechanically, as if this body wasn't his own, Itachi kneeled down next to him on the ground, afraid. _So afraid_ that his last words were about Madara's dead brother.

 **"I'm sorry - I'm so…"**

Itachi took Madara's hands, cold and bloodstained as they were, in his own and caressed them like he did that night.

Growing fond of an elf was one thing. Denying that he had been in love was the other. How would Itachi know? He hadn't been in love before. Now, staring blankly into Madara's pale face, he wished for a second chance, just to make things right as they were supposed to be - different words, whole different actions towards him so with the knowledge Itachi had he wouldn't hurt but help Madara.

 **"I'm sorry."** Itachi repeated, regretfully, holding Madara's hands in his as he sat besides his dead body. He could ignore the heartache. He did before. He feared that this time it won't pass. It never will, Itachi thinks, and he thinks he deserves it. _Maybe he does._

* * *

 _ **"**_ _ **You see, Itachi - I should be furious but I learned to forgive. What you said didn't hurt at all, as I know you would never want to willingly hurt me, unlike I did hurt you. Despite everything you're kind and gentle and I hate to treat you like this. You're just human. "**_ _And elves aren't supposed to love humans._


End file.
